The Pool Party Where I Was the Only Man

Renata was the kind of girl who should not exist in a calculus classroom. Brown hair, straight, very long, and a body that seemed designed to ruin anyone’s concentration. But what was truly intimidating was not her curves or the way her neckline always sat a little crooked on purpose. It was her eyebrows. She had a savage look, the look of an animal deciding whether you’re worth hunting. Almost no guy in the faculty went near her. I think we all sensed we would lose.

I sat behind her in the eight o’clock class, which was both a reward and a torture. I spent the hour trying to follow the professor and failing, because her shampoo smelled like coconut and something else I couldn’t name, and because every time she leaned over her notebook her back traced itself under her blouse.

On the day of the first midterm, the universe threw me a bone. Renata was nervous, which was rare for her, and halfway through the exam she started making discreet signs toward her paper. Everyone knew math was the only thing I was good at. I whispered the answers with my mouth almost shut, feeling like my heart might burst.

—You saved me —she said on the way out, shoving her pen into her bun—. What’s your name?

We had been in the same program for two years and she didn’t know my name.

—Bruno —I answered.

—Bruno. Tomorrow I’m having a party at my place. You should come.

—Sounds good —I said, pretending to be calmer than I was.

—It’s by the pool. Bring a swimsuit.

***

The house was out in the suburbs, one of those with a high wall and a gate left slightly open. Music was playing and there was a murmur of voices. I pushed the door and crossed the hallway toward the patio, mentally rehearsing something clever to say.

I said nothing. I stood frozen in the doorway, idiotized.

There were about fifteen girls. All in swimsuits, all spectacular, scattered between the loungers and the edge of the pool. And not a single man. Under any other circumstances I would have thought I had died and arrived at some very specific version of heaven. Instead, I felt a chill at the back of my neck. Something didn’t add up.

—Bruno, you came! —Renata approached in a white bikini that made her look even more dangerous.

—Hi… how’s it going? —I asked, and my voice came out half an octave higher than normal.

—Sunbathing. Come on, I’ll introduce you. —She hooked her arm through mine and pressed it against her side. I felt the soft weight of her breast against my elbow and forgot how to breathe.

—Did the stripper get here yet? —one of them shouted from the pool, and they all burst out laughing.

—It’s Bruno, he helped me on the midterm, I invited him —Renata explained, not letting go of me.

—It was supposed to be girls only —protested a redhead, looking pretty annoyed.

—This is more fun. And it’s my house.

Someone put a cold drink in my hand. I sipped it in small mouthfuls while I sat on the edge of a lounger, surrounded by Renata and seven or eight of her friends. They talked about their boyfriends, their exes, about some guy who had sent a photo to one of them.

—I swear it looked like a newborn’s —said the girl, searching her phone—. Look.

The phone passed from hand to hand amid shrieks and cruel comments. I smiled just enough not to seem bitter, praying the conversation would move on.

It didn’t.

—So how big are you, Bruno? —asked a light-eyed brunette, resting her chin on her hand.

Every gaze fell on me at once. I felt sweat breaking out on my back.

—Well… normal, I guess —I muttered.

—Translation: he’s got a little one —said another, and the laughter was general.

—Come on, don’t be mean, you’ll scare him off —Renata interjected. But she wasn’t defending me. She said it with a half-smile, like someone stroking an animal before the injection.

—Then show it to us.

—Yeah, yeah, yeah! —several of them started chanting, banging the loungers.

I shook my head, smiling with a stiffness that hurt. Hang in there. They’ll get bored. And, in fact, after a while of insisting they lost interest and went back to their conversations. I sank back into the lounger, put on the sunglasses I had in my pocket, and breathed.

That was where I made my mistake.

Hidden behind the dark lenses, I let my gaze wander. And there wasn’t a single girl who wasn’t beautiful. Tanned skin, pale skin, backs shining with tanning oil, asses flashing into view with every movement. I started feeling a heat that had nothing to do with the sun. By the time I tried to stop it, it was too late: I had an erection that strained the fabric of my swimsuit like a tent.

I sat up abruptly, trying to hide it, hunched over, with the glass on my lap. The more I thought about making it go down, the harder it got.

—Bruno, can you help me move the speaker? It’s really heavy —Renata was standing in front of me, tilting her head.

—Yeah, in a minute —I said, not moving.

—Are you busy or something? —she asked, amused.

—I’ll finish my drink and go.

—Your glass is empty.

Those three words sealed my fate. She looked down. And then she looked up slowly, eyes narrowed, focusing.

—IT’S HARD! —one of them shrieked.

The whole patio went insane. The ones in the pool leaned over the edge, the ones on the loungers stood up, someone turned off the music so the laughter could be heard better.

—Bruno’s hard! —they repeated between tears of laughter.

Renata wasn’t laughing like the others. She was looking at me with almost clinical curiosity, head tilted, as if studying a discovery.

—And it’s small too —the redhead pointed out.

Several of them pounced on me, grabbed my wrists, and yanked me off the lounger. I felt hands everywhere, someone slapped me, another pulled at the edge of my swimsuit, all of them shouting at once.

—Throw him in the water, see if it goes down! —one of them suggested.

They half-carried me, some by the shoulders, others by the ankles, and threw me into the pool. I sank and stayed under as long as I could, wishing I would never have to bring my head up again. When I finally surfaced for air, I heard splashes: they were all getting in the water. And strangely enough, I stopped feeling so exposed. Diluted among so many bodies, my humiliation seemed to weigh less.

—Did it go down yet, pervert? —Renata asked, swimming toward me.

—Yeah, sorry.

—Let’s check that you’re telling the truth —said the brunette from before.

Three or four hands searched for me underwater and, of course, the effect was the opposite. I hardened again instantly, and they celebrated it like a goal.

***

Renata suggested we play Marco Polo and that I be the first seeker. I agreed, relieved by the change of topic. Since they had thrown me in clothed, I took advantage to peel off my soaked T-shirt and toss it onto the edge.

—He should play naked! —one of them shouted.

I shook my head, laughing nervously.

—Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill. It already got hard in front of everyone, what’s the difference? —another insisted.

—I can’t.

—Or is it really small? —Renata said, baiting me.

—No. I just don’t want to.

She glided over until she was a handspan away, and spoke in my ear, so softly only I could hear her.

—Are you taking it off yourself, or are we taking it off for you?

I swallowed. And then what I hadn’t expected happened: one of the girls announced “we are too,” and within seconds they started untying their bikinis and leaving them floating on the edge. I couldn’t believe it. Breasts everywhere, bare backs, hysterical laughter. I was supposed to take off my swimsuit, but the spectacle had me frozen.

—Bruno didn’t take anything off! —Renata revealed.

—Strip him!

The stampede returned. Hands on my arms, on my shoulders, someone pulling the swimsuit down until it gave and disappeared underwater. I ended up completely naked in the middle of a circle of girls who were also naked, feeling fingers brushing me, fighting to get under the surface, one hand giving way to another. It was humiliating and delirious at the same time. I could barely see anything through the agitated water, only flashes of skin and the outline of bodies pressing against mine as they passed. I was so aroused that my only consolation was thinking that if I came in there, nobody would notice.

—All right, girls, let’s play —ordered Renata, still stroking me underwater—. Bruno’s it. Someone cover his eyes.

They tied a small towel over my head and the game began. I shouted “Marco” and a chorus answered “Polo” from every direction. I moved blindly, arms outstretched, and never caught anyone. I felt pinches on my back, a hand squeezing my balls for a second and disappearing before I could react. Until I heard one girl very close, way too confident. I lunged and grabbed her by the waist.

The body slipped between my arms, soaked, soft, impossible to hold. I pulled her in and felt my hardness pressing against her. Taking advantage of the “game,” I slid my hands over her stomach, over her breasts. The girls were shrieking.

—I caught her! —I yelled.

She turned. I felt her mouth searching for mine, a brief kiss, her hand going down toward my crotch. I thought she was going to stroke me. Instead she grabbed my balls with brutal force, so hard that I let out a muffled cry and opened my arms. By the time I recovered, she had already escaped.

—I squeezed his balls! —she crowed, and they all roared with laughter.

The pool was huge. I kept searching, but fewer and fewer voices answered, and the water was growing silent. I was starting to suspect I was playing alone.

—Polo —said Renata, very close, in a calm voice that did not invite escape.

I went toward her. Her hand took mine, without any pretense this time, and guided me to a shallow area. She had me sit on the step and settled beside me.

—No one’s playing anymore, right? —I asked, taking the towel off my eyes.

—No. They got bored. Relax for a while.

The light blinded me for an instant. When my vision cleared, I got a surprise: Renata had put her bikini back on. I looked around. They were all dressed again. I searched the edges for my swimsuit and couldn’t find it. Neither my T-shirt.

—Who has my swimsuit? —I asked, confused.

—Don’t worry about that —she said, resting a hand on my thigh—. You look good like this.

—Everyone got dressed…

—We’re decent girls. What happened before was a moment of madness. —She smiled, and her hand began to move up—. You’re a special case. You don’t need a swimsuit.

Her hand reached me and started stroking me, slowly, staring ahead as if she enjoyed the sun more than me. I couldn’t think. She was close, very close, when she stood in front of me and kissed me, leaning in, not stopping the movement of her hand, which got firmer and firmer. Me, sitting, her standing over me, had the clear sensation that I belonged to her. That it was she who decided whether what came next would be pleasure, pain, or shame. And that idea, instead of scaring me, drove me to the edge. I grabbed her waist and exploded in an orgasm that tightened my whole body.

—You came, didn’t you? —she said, satisfied.

—Yeah…

—Great. Let’s get out of here. —She said it as if that had been all she was waiting for before moving on to her next plan.

—And my swimsuit?

—I already told you that you don’t need it. Come like this.

—I can’t. Everyone’s going to see me.

—They already saw everything. And you were already naked in the pool with us.

—That’s different. They’re dressed now.

I resisted. Renata pulled my arm and I leaned back. She lost patience quickly. She took my balls again, not squeezing hard enough to drop me, but enough to erase any resistance, and led me up the steps. Every time I tried to stop, I felt the tug. I had two options: walk out of the water naked, or let her rip away what I was covering myself with.

As if my will had stayed at the bottom of the pool, I let myself be led. We walked along the stone path toward the loungers. Renata moved forward without hesitation, sure of herself, not looking back at me, displaying me like an exotic animal she had just tamed.

—Look! —one of them shouted halfway there, and they all turned at once.

The laughter reached me before the looks did. When we arrived, Renata finally let go of me. Fifteen pairs of eyes dropped onto me. I covered myself on instinct, and she slapped my hands away.

—Don’t cover yourself. We’ve all seen you already. If you cover up, we’ll tie your arms behind your back and take turns. Right, girls?

—YES! —they chanted.

—It’s your choice whether you have a good time or a bad time with us —added the redhead, sweetly venomous.

—And you’re not getting the swimsuit back. You’re going home like that.

I lowered my hands slowly, until my arms hung at my sides. The girls didn’t look away, commenting, evaluating, laughing under their breath. I thought the hard-on on the lounger had been the most humiliating moment of my life. How wrong I was.

—All right, stop bothering Bruno —said Renata, and for a second I thought she would defend me. Then she took me again, this time gently, marking her possession—. At least he had the guts to stay. And now he’s ours for the rest of the afternoon.

The strange thing was that, somewhere between the water and the stone path, I had stopped wanting to run.